


Nobody wants a soggy baguette!

by hobbeshalftail3469



Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: Daft, F/M, NO LETHAL WHITE SPOILERS, Smut, implied kinkiness with ladles/baguettes/soup, inuendo, ridiculous amount of smuttiness, soup ladles, yes you did read that correctly!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-16 01:22:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16075418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hobbeshalftail3469/pseuds/hobbeshalftail3469
Summary: OK, this is a ridiculous bit of nonsense; NOT AT ALL BASED ON OR GIVING ANYTHING AWAY ABOUT LETHAL WHITE, it is based on Robin and Strike being in a relationship (as we all hope for one day, somehow!)Anyway, the lovely LulaIsAKitten sent me a very amusing cartoon that we thought could very well be Strike and Robin - she noticed the crutches not me!A challenge was laid down and accepted and many of the funnier lines are direct from 'La Kitten' <3The first sentence may be a bit much for some of you.....but I needed a way of explaining the crutches.....and 'b*lls deep sounds so much funnier than any of the alternatives I have considered!!!!! Indulge me.It contains lots and lots of sexual innuendo, based on Strike having as smutty a mind as me!!!It is daft and a definite one shot!!! ;)





	Nobody wants a soggy baguette!

**Author's Note:**

> See the link in the comments to the original cartoon that inspired the ludicrousness that is this particular fic.  
> #inspirationscomesinthestrangestplaces!

Strike was sat at his desk, crutches propped up behind him having damaged his knee slipping in the shower…..(the fact that he’d been b*lls deep in Robin at the time was something they were keeping on the downlow!)  
He was trawling through surveillance footage; shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows revealing muscular, dark haired forearms whilst waiting for Robin to return.  
They’d been together for about 5 months and she’d pretty much moved into his tiny flat. They’d rearranged some furniture and purchased a couple of small drawer units which fitted better in their offices so that stuff they didn’t need on a day to day basis wasn’t getting in the way. It was all working wonderfully and Strike hadn’t thought it possible to feel this happy; despite the weather outside he felt lightness in his heart.  
He heard her familiar tread on the stairs and moments later Robin burst in, shaking the hood from her parka off to reveal her golden hair. She was clutching a jute shopping bag which appeared to have an unfeasibly large number of French sticks in it.  
“Dammit! The rain got me all wet!” she sniffed, shaking like a dog deliberately to shower Cormoran with the drops.  
He grinned at her and stretched out an arm to grab her waist,pulling her onto his lap, “Really?? You get turned on by the weirdest shit!” he nuzzled into her neck.  
“Cormoran Blue Strike, you are a very rude man!” she giggled, then assumed an air of mock seriousness, “Go to my room immediately!” and winked as she wriggled off his lap, purposefully grinding into the hardness she knew she would find beneath his trousers.  
He reached for his crutches eagerly and began to hop towards the stairs,   
“And bring the bread….I don’t want them to go soggy!” Robin shouted down.  
“Nobody want a droopy baguette!” he retorted, “And can you explain to me why we have enough to feed an army…..or is there something I should know about you and baguettes?” he said thoughtfully as he slung the bag over his shoulder and noticed the shape and girth of the French sticks, his eyebrows rose….he could work with it he thought!  
In the flat Robin was pottering around and making the table look nice, and had 4 bowls and spoons stacked neatly with some paper napkins.  
His face portrayed his disappointment, he poked his lip out like a petulant pug, “No nookie then?!” he pouted.  
Robin giggled, “When I said I was wet I really did mean that it was raining…..and Nick and Ilsa are coming round for lunch, remember?” she added, kissing his adorable face until he stopped resisting and returned her passion.  
It didn’t take much for them to turn from innocent kisses to breathless need. But it was Cormoran who broke away, as Robin’s hands were dragging through his hair creating a style of even greater unruliness.  
“So you haven’t got a kinky thing about baguettes then?” he panted, and watched her eyes shoot wide.  
“NO!!!! What could I…..or you do with….?” she voiced, her mind in over drive about the possibilities now that he’d mentioned it.  
“Just a thought!” he retorted. “What are we having with the bread then?”  
“Soup, made a nice one, just needs warming up……but don’t catch my eye when I’m serving it, OK?” she begged.  
Strike looked perplexed, “OK…..can I have a clue as to why?”  
Robin stared seductively at him, “I’ll be using the ladle!”  
“The ladle?” queried Cormoran, and then remembered, “…Oh yeah…..the ladle,” a weird, dreamy expression on his face, “……I hope you’ve washed it!”  
They sniggered and couldn’t resist whispering various reminisces of the infamous evening….which of course meant that they had to hastily make their way into the bedroom….without the said piece of kitchen equipment.  
Robin had one eye on the clock as she redressed herself, Cormoran grinning like the cat that got the cream from the bed where he was still leisurely splayed.  
“Get up! They’ll be here soon,” she nagged, dragging a brush through her hair and reapplying lipbalm.  
Strike sniggered at her choice of words, “If you are ordering me to get up again I’ll need ten minutes, love!”  
“Oh stop with your filthy mind…..you manage to turn every innocent statement into a filthy innuendo….I’ll have to start punishing you for your cunning choice of words!” she waggled her eyebrows suggestively.  
“Well, I am a very cunning linguist!” he giggled, grabbing her and dragging her back onto the bed with him, attacking her neck with grunting bites.  
Robin wrestled herself free and pulled the duvet cover off him, knowing that he could cope with most things except the cold!  
“I’m going to heat the soup and check the seasoning….and if you dare make any comment about it needing more salt I will throttle you!” she shouted over her shoulder as she readjusted her sweater, again!  
Ten minutes later Strike was dressed and being on his best behaviour, sorting out some background music on his phone, whilst Robin heated the soup so that a deliciously mouth watering aroma filled the small, cosy space.  
Nick and Ilsa arrived bang on time; well ten minutes late, which for them was usual, and the four had a general catch up on work and domestic madness over Doom Bar and white wine.  
Robin served up the soup, carefully avoiding Cormoran’s gaze as she ladled it into four bowls.  
“Help yourself to bread,” she remarked, gesturing the French sticks which she’d unwrapped and placed on the table. She noticed Cormoran’s deeply sensual and intense stare as he ran his hands along one of the baguettes and twisted it to remove a chunk, raising one brow suggestively and completing the action so quickly that neither Nick or Ilsa saw; but Robin did and turned her face away to hide her blushing cheeks.  
“Do you want me to pull a bit off for you Robin?” he asked in the most ridiculously innocent voice imaginable.  
“That would be lovely,” she retorted, giving him a look that he knew very well meant ‘you just wait til later!’  
“It’s really fresh….did you get it today?” Nick asked.  
“Yeah, Robin went out earlier….got a bit wet though!” Cormoran smiled.  
“In France they get it fresh a couple of times a day…..makes sure it’s always nice and hard,” Ilsa innocently added. Robin had to turn away as her shoulders started to shake, biting away the smutty inuendo Ilsa and Nick had inadvertently raised.  
They all ate informally – Nick on the small sofa, Cormoran and Ilsa at the kitchen table and Robin on the armchair, and carried on their general chit chat. They made a great foursome, and all had previously mentioned how glad they were that they were now two couples.  
Nick and Cormoran washed and dried the dishes while Robin and Ilsa continued chatting; whispered giggles meant that they were more than likely discussing sex the boys thought; but neither was in any doubt about their partners satisfaction in that area, so they indulged them, switching on the TV for the second half of the football to give them more opportunity to carry on their tete a tete.  
The match ended. The quartet moved onto cups of tea rather than more wine or beer, several of each having already been finished. Robin broke out a selection of chocolate brownies, millionaire shortbreads and fridge cake square; all of which she knew were easy ways into Cormoran’s heart….and trousers!  
They all munched and made those ‘delicious chocolate’ noises and Robin asked about the following weekend. She knew that Nick and Ilsa had some other work friends going round for dinner, she and Cormoran were also going, Robin wanted to know if there was anything she could bring with her to compliment the menu.  
“I’m doing a mixed starter thing – you know, lots of salamis, olives, blinis…..that kind of thing, then a massive beef daube thing – you’ve had it before and liked it,” she indicated to Strike, “and then Tiramisu for dessert…..but I haven’t quite decided what to dip my sponge fingers in yet……there are so many possibilities!” she stated, completely unaware of the turmoil on the armchair, Robin sat on Cormoran’s knee and was quivering as he shook beneath her; he’d actually bit into her shoulder at the mention of ‘possibilities’!!!  
Robin tried to retain a calm voice as she answered Ilsa, “Well yes, obviously…..isn’t marsala and espresso usual? but I suppose you could use coffee liquer, or brandy.”  
Ilsa nodded, “I was thinking of coffee liquer mixed with Vanilla vodka!” she grinned, “get sloshed on the pudding!”  
Nick chimed in, “I thought of adding the vodka to the creamy bit too, give it a good beating, make sure it’s still nice and thick,” he added.  
Cormoran was really struggling; just as he thought he’d got himself back to a modicum of control some other comment was made and he was off again; quivering and biting his lip.  
“Well it sounds delicious, and I can’t wait for a decent portion at the weekend, can you babes?” Robin added, knowing full well that her boyfriend was struggling with his smutty mind, and her choice of words might just finish him off.  
Nick and Ilsa stayed long enough to finish their tea then hugs and goodbyes were shared and they left.  
Cormoran waited until he heard the lower door close before turning to Robin, “You!!!! That was evil….I’ve actually bitten through my cheek!” he shouted playfully as she giggled and laughed at him.  
“Serves you right for being so smutty minded!” she retorted, side stepping his grappling arms, knowing that she had the upper hand whilst he was still sans prosthesis and reliant on his crutches.  
“Yeah, but I’ve got a whole week to think up how I can embarrass you when the pudding gets served!” he twinkled mischievously.   
Robin rolled her eyes but sniggered, “I hope Nick can manage to get his cream filling stiff enough!” she laughed, draping herself across her boyfriend’s lap.  
“Hmmm, well, it’s all in the wrist action you know,” he growled as she rubbed her hand firmly against the growing bulge in his trousers.  
“Take me to bed and show me your wrist action,” she breathed into his ear, “…..and bring that spare baguette!”


End file.
